End
by sevenofmine
Summary: Jackson has to end what he has begun. First person narrator, one chap but five different scenes. Just read and review.


**A story which is a little different and with a different writing-style than I usually write. I recently started to write in first person narrator, e.g. 'Hunt' (only on ) or 'Rote Rache'.**

Take I

"Do you really have to go already?" ask I when she gets up and starts to dress herself.

"I don't know what you're doing all day but I've gotta work," answers she in her sweet voice. She closes her bra but I tear her body back into the bed. I crawl above her and smile at her face.

"But I don't want you to go," I play the loving boyfriend. It was slowly getting serious between us. She laughs at me and pushes my chest away.

"I don't want to be late or my boss's hitting the roof," says she and puts on her beautiful dress.

I pout and she just kisses me again before she vanishes and closes the door behind her.

Take II

I decide very fast. I just get up and dress up. I'm a man so I'm faster in that.

"Wait!" I shout after her and she hesitates.

She really must feel something. "What?" asks she a bit nerved.

I smile, again. "Let me kiss you one more time," say I and already have the knife in my hand, hidden behind my back.

I press my lips on hers, I gently touch her shoulder with my left hand, my right one grips harder around the knife. I can hear the blade's 'pling' in my ears and I imagine it. And now it is my time to act, to finally do, and so I do.

I kiss her and while I am kissing her and push the knife's blade so hard into her soft flesh. She stumbles backward, her eyes open, gasping for breath is her mouth, so widely, she does not scream at my, all in surprise and I still smile. I see her body fall down, landing on her back on the floor, the knife sticking into where her kidney is supposed to be.

She closes her eyes now and her face is showing all the pain she is enduring. I knee down over her like I have done so often, but in bed, now we're on the floor, face-to-face and she is struggling for survival. Her mouth is pressing out words, she is whispering and I can barely hear what she wants to express. "Why?" asks she.

"Nothing personal," promise I and put her strand of hair out of the paler getting face, she is fighting, this wound is not killing. So I take the knife, do not pull it out, but turn around, the blood is oozing out of the deep hole I created, trickling on the floor, forming a puddle of liquid in different colors, everything from light to dark red and brown, such a mixture and not so fluid, but viscous.

I know it, the color of death and I see it so often. She is nothing to me, just another death, there are enough deaths on the world, all the time, every day. She is just one more. Tears run out of her eyes, man, I really fooled her. Finally, I decide and pull out the knife of her, she sinks back on the floor, staring at the ceiling. I think twice, should I end her suffering or should I not?

I stand up, once more and look down on the body, she's fighting for survival but there is nothing that could be done. Without a word I am leaving the house, somebody will clean up after me and Cynthia does not have the slightest chance to get out of there alive.

This is just a warning, a warning that you should not mess around with me or the guys I am working for. Unfortunately, nobody will understand this warning as it happens so often.

Take III

I stumble over the dead. I catch myself and walk further. I look out of the window, such a perfect view and the last view he glanced on. He tried to protect, how weak. I watched him for a while, struggling like Cynthia, fighting for survival, not accepting the unavoidable truth. But death cannot be prevented, not when you're ought to die.

I walk on, leave his body behind me, glacing at the door, I see the corpse of his wife, she was not strong, she gave up so easily, two cuts and one time I stabbed, right into her stomach. She screamed. But not loud enough.

And she ended, as well as did their two children, I was more nice with them. I am not a cruel man, most time, but when you get me angry, nothing can stop me.

I cut their bellies open, she were dead within seconds, I have a heart, although it is small and black, black as my soul is. So now I'm leaving this room which will be declared crime scene in just a few minutes, but enough time for me to get out of here.

Take IV

I look at her, look into her brown eyes. She stares back at me, such fear, she's so scared, how cute. She looks down, cannot stand my eyes, my crystal blue eyes, matching my psychopathic interior.

She stared at the body of her daddy, how cute, she loves him so much. But I just smile when I come closer to her. She can't escape, she pressed herself at the wall, no escape. She looks at the silver blade, blinking and shimmering in the sunlight, we're in her house, nobody can hear you scream my dear Leese.

I cut her throat, I cut it carefully and softly. I am gentle to you, Leese. I have always been.

But have you really been so stupid to think that I would forget you? No, you have always been in my mind and you will always be. Just not in my nightmares anymore. I watch her body fall down on the floor again, no struggle for survival, no fight for staying alive. She just lays there and I smile, again.

Take V

And now that I am out of there, back in Ireland again and out of big United States, I can start a life. A life without being hunted, shot twice and stabbed into my neck.

I killed them all who made trouble for me and I can finally start to be a usual hit man, as she had guessed before.

I usually hadn't killed so much, it all started with Lisa, she was the reason for everything.

Little, stupid, stubborn Leese. Now you see what you've got from it.

I turn my back to the past and enter the Red Eye to Dublin, away from Miami.

**Please review.**


End file.
